I'm Anti-Gym

I was going to say that I hate going to the gym, but thought better of it. 'Hate' is a strong word, and I'm not sure I feel that level of dislike for the gym and the workouts that it involves. The straining and the pushing and the pain and the aches for days after. No. No, thank you. People say, "No pain, no gain". I prefer the motto "No pain, no pain".

Seriously though, I've tried going to the gym multiple times in the past, but it has always been a habit I could never cultivate. Perhaps it's just plain laziness. Or a lack of determination and willpower. And though on some level a lot of what I say against working out may just be excuses to justify my laziness, it's not like I live a completely sedentary lifestyle. I play sports regularly (or try to, at least).

Mostly I  dislike the constant barrage of eye candy that surrounds me every time I step into a gym. All these sweaty, toned guys lifting weights and grunting and heaving and verbally spurring one another on. All that machismo, testosterone and pseudo-homoeroticism. Oof. I don't like how it makes me feel. Not a good place for me to be. And don't even get me started on communal showers. What's that about?

But if I were to work out religiously—there's no denying the level of fanaticism some gym-goers reach—I'm sure it would be worth the beach-worthy body I would achieve. Who wouldn't want to look like a Greek god? However, knowing me, it'd be another reason to vain out and just post shirtless pics on Instagram to show off all my hard work. You know, if you got it, flaunt it, etc.

So yes, another reason not to work out. I'll just stick to sports.